


As Red As My Paint

by iironhide



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Graphic Description, Horror, M/M, Medical Horror, Other, Past Mpreg, Torture, Violence, explicit content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-05 03:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iironhide/pseuds/iironhide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Silas had this coming we all know that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of Season 2 Episode 19: The Human Factor
> 
>   **Songs of Inspiration:**  
>  _“Girl With One Eye” by Florence + the Machine_  
>  “Zydrate Anatomy” by Repo! The Genetic Opera  
> “Harbinger” by Damage Vault
> 
>  **Author’s Note:** Season two, episode nineteen of Prime is probably my favorite episode of the entire series so far. It was such a nice treat to see a more volatile side of Knock Out, and seeing Silas being dragged away by the vehicons just got me so riled up, you know? This fanfiction is super old too, having written this like four years ago. Has it really been that long, holy shit.

As Red As My Paint

\----

He woke up in a room he didn’t know. He didn’t even remember passing out. All he remembered was the electric shock of the Decepticon Medic’s prod and the hands of the Eradicons dragging him off to only God knows where. 

His head was pounding. He tried to bring his hands up but found them they were bound to the metal table by energon cables. He struggled, but found it to be no use. The cables began digging into his wrists and ankles and his body’s protoform was being torn raw. 

He banged against the metal to try and free himself, but to no avail. He heard doors slide open and close and the soft sound of pedes against the metal floor.  
“Hello, Silas. I’m glad to see that you’re finally awake. I’d hate for you to miss my presentation. You’re the guest of honor, you know.”

His one optic widened in fear as he watched he watched the red mech walk over to the dissection table. He squirmed under his gaze, the medic’s optics burning into his mind. He turned his helm away in hope that he’d go away. 

He felt a taloned servo harshly grab his chin and forced his head to face him. He trailed sharp digits along scars and gashes along his face plates. He let go and turned, walking to the other side of the room. Silas took this chance to close his one optic and turn his helm away again. He heard metal on metal originating from the area where the medic was standing, gathering tools and such for the event to come. 

He couldn’t mistake the leer in his optics. It scared him. It was full of happiness and joy, an innocent yet insane gaze that sent shivers of intense fear up his spine. He had seen it many times before from the individuals in his organization, or former. 

Feeling the overwhelming sense of power when he had been awoken in a reanimated carcass of the off-lined Cybertronian they had discovered in the forest a few months prior, he felt like a god among mortals and was easily overcome by sensation of intense sovereignty that was now in the palm of his hand. He felt as if he no longer needed his men, and murdered those who fought to save his life; he massacred them all as if they never mattered, and to him in that moment, they didn't. 

That sensation, however, had completely abandoned his body as the vehicons dragged him away from the bridge. He had been so high and mighty, and oh how far he has fallen. Now, he was powerless, proven incompetent by the Decepticons, and was scheduled to be dissected and studied by their medic for quote-unquote research purposes, but he knew better than that.

He was guilty of similar charges. 

He knew this, and in the past, he didn’t care. But now, it seems that karma has finally caught up to him in the worse way possible. 

He was brought out of his inner musing and turmoil when he heard a hard clang and a large metal object hit the side of the table. He looked over to the medic, eyes wide with fear. He looked down to see that a metal cart had been kicked against the metal table, causing it to vibrate slightly. 

Pedes sounded against the metallic floor and became louder as he came closer and closer. He fought the urge to look up, but lost and moved his head to stare at the white faceplates of the Decepticon medic. His digits traced over the scars once more before trailing down to his chest plates, tapping twice before turning to the metal cart he had violently kicked over only a moment ago. 

His optics scanned over the various tools and gadgets that littered the cart, as if deciding on which to use first. He turned back towards the table once more before shrugging his shoulders and brought out his rotary saw from his hand. 

The look on his patient’s face was absolutely gorgeous, and his begging was music to his audio sensors.  
“W-wait! Don’t do this! I’ll do anything!”

The smile faded from Knock Out’s face.

“Why should I listen to you? You didn’t listen to Breakdown.”

“P-please! Stop! I’ll-“

“You’ll what? What could you possibly have or do that would prevent me from slicing you into pieces?”

He didn’t answer. 

“That's what I thought.”

When the saw cut into his metal golem, he screamed. Not in pain, but in fear. He had lost. He never lost. But now, he came to realize that he had been defeated by the very beings he wanted to become. This is the one and only time Silas lost, and he only felt sorrow and agony. He knew that he truly deserved his fate, but he'd never admit it. Oh no, that would show weakness, and Silas was not a weak man. But one would think differently if they saw him sobbing and pleading for his life to be spared by a giant alien robot from planet so far away, who wanted nothing more than to splatter his blood across the steel walls the medical bay and use it to paint a mural on every flat surface he could reach.

He noticed that the high-pitched squeal of the rotary saw had ceased, and everything around him grew silent. Then, he heard scratching as Knock Out's sharp fingers pried into the cut he had formed across his golem's upper chest plates. He winced at the sharp shriek of metal tearing and crunching, and he looked up, tears running down his scarred face at the shiny white faceplates of the Decepticon medic. 

If he weren't in his current state, he would have seen his smile as delightfully sinister, but here, in the medical bay of the Decepticon warship, strapped down to a berth with and insane alien robot with such intense crimson optics looking wickedly down upon him as he lay in his robotic golem, about to be dissected and used as an experiment, just like he had done to one of them... his smile was frightening. 

They had remained in silence for a few moments when the medic finally broke the tension between them and brushed his fingertips down Silas' front. He only felt the wind created by the movement. The medic didn't want to apply too much pressure to his light and delicate skin before he would enact the main event. He tugged lightly at the cables keeping the fleshling inside of his deceased partner, and the weak wiring snapped at the slightest pressure Knock Out subjected them to. He expected no less; such primitive earth technology. 

His face had gone blank, but as he looked to down to see Silas watching his every move, he couldn't help but let his lips curl into a sinister smile. He had waited for this day ever since Silas had first dissected his blue friend, and now, he had the perfect opportunity to get his revenge and return the favor. When the last cable snapped, he gently slid his fingers between Silas and the inner plating of the metal golem, and slowly removed him from his casing. The man tensed, and everything around them was silent. 

Silas could only stare at the Decepticon medic as it felt as if the other's bright red optics burned right through his very being. He didn't even notice that they were moving until he was dropped down onto a different medical table. He felt the table rattled as the medical cart had been kicked again by Knock Out, and he heard the sound of his pedes making their way over to him. He knew escape was futile, but that didn't stop him from trying. 

He pushed himself up to his feet and tried to make a break for it to the edge of the steel table, but his legs buckled. His accident before this with Optimus Prime and his poor attempt at replicating a Cybertonian had rendered most of his body useless with out his metal puppet. As he struggled to recapture his breath, he felt two sharp talons pierce the skin on his left leg, and he was dragged back towards the medic. He didn't go without a fight, though. Despite the sharp and intense pain he felt in his left calf, he kicked and screamed, and dug his nails into the metal plating of the table. The metal, however, was too thick and strong, and his fingernails were ripped off. Blood streaked the plating as Silas was pulled to the middle of the table, and was turned on his back, a sharp hand holding him down. 

Knock Out was mindful of the pressure he placed on the human. He wanted nothing more than to squash him like the weak and disgusting rat he was, but he had other plans. Squishing him would be too easy, too quick, and not painful enough. What he had in store would do just the trick. 

“Now Silas, you really should no better than to run. You'll only make this harder on yourself.”

“You should take your own advice.”

His faceplates were blank as he stared at the human that was pinned underneath his servo. 

“... How do you know about that?”

“Your friend told me. You know, fight or drive? You always chose drive.”

Knock Out pushed a finger into the puncture wounds on Silas's leg. He relished in the wonderful screams that escaped his throat, and twisted his finger to dig deeper into the soft flesh. Normally, he would of cared about the organic fluid that stained his medical table and fingers, but right now, considering the circumstances, he didn't care about that at all. 

He also found the color to be truly delightful. 

“You're so small and fragile and weak that I don't even need my medical tools to cut you into pieces. All I really need are my fingers. Shame you humans don't have servos like us. You'd be so much more capable of protecting yourself with out those primitive weapons.” 

To render him completely immobile, Knock Out dug his finger into the human's other leg, letting him cry out in agony as his legs became completely useless. He felt the medic's blood-stained fingertips pull at his clothing, and he dragged the tip down, ripping the clothing fibers. The clothing around his torso was violently ripped away, and those sharp tips came dangerously close to his skin. They lightly brushed against his chest, only enough to leave white marks on the top layer of his skin. 

His breath hitched and his eyes began to water again. There really was no escape. His fact was carved in stone, and he knew he deserved it. He'd never truly admit it, though. He never imagined going out like this. Then again, who imagines a death in which they are dissected by a giant, not to mention insane, robot doctor? He certainly didn't. 

Silas heard the medic exhale, and his attention was turned back to the massive fingers above his torso. They moved closer to his body, and his couldn't help but cry out and plead.

“Please, have mercy!”

“Never.”

Knock Out let his forefinger break the surface of the human's skin, letting blood trickled out of the diagonal gash he made on the upper left side of Silas' torso. He made another on the other side, and where the two cuts met at the center of his chest, he dragged the tip of his finger cut a long and deep into the human's flesh, the loud, piercing scream being music to his audio sensors.  
He gently slid his fingers between the cuts, and pulled them apart. The skin flapped over and Knock Out stuck two tiny needles into them, preventing them from moving in any direction. 

And now, the main event could begin. 

The medic pulled himself back from the human, and let his optics wonder at his current work. He eyes looked to his open torso, and studied. The white ribcage that kept all of his internal organs in place, the inflation and deflation of his lungs, and the sternum where the rib bones branched from, and the light sound of his heart pumping blood throughout his body. His optics trailed down to his lower intestines, the tight coil of his small intestine and the long tubing of his large intense.

Knock Out had taken some of his leisure time to study Earth biology and anatomy, just for his momentous occasion. 

He wondered where he should start first. He shrugged his shoulders, and started with the lower region of the human's torso. He hooked his finger into Silas' small intestine, and slowly pulled, adoring the scream of pure agony that came from the human. He yanked, and the organ left the fleshling's pain-ridden body. He was surprised how long it was when stretched out, and not in a tight little coil as it had been previously, cuddled with the larger intestine in the human's middle abdomen. 

He let down the fleshy tubing, and pulled at the large intestine. He ignored Silas' scream of anguish and agony as yanked it out of his body as well, laying it down beside the other tube made of organic human tissue. 

Oral lubricant dribbled from Silas' mouth, which he had learned was called saliva on this planet. The liquid drooled down his face and pooled beneath his head. He was gurgling and panting, and looked to be in what he imagined, unbelievable pain. But Silas' pain could never compare to the agony and sorrow he experienced when he felt Breakdown's spark die, and their bond was snapped.

“Puh-please, stop. Just kill me—Please!”

“Patience, my pet. We're almost done...”

He poked at the vertebrae, slipping his fingertips between to pinch at his spinal cord. The human yelped in sharp pain. He knew what the spinal cord was used for and what it could do. He was mindful to pressure points, for if he pressed the wrong one, he could render his patient paralyzed and unable to feel the delicious torture he was forcing him to endure. 

Silas twitched violently as he pulled his fingers away. The sclera of his eyes were a tinted pink, and large, wet tears fell down his cheeks. He could see dried tear stains, and drool leaked out of the corners of his mouth. He panted and gagged every so often. This pupils were tiny, and he stared at the ceiling, refusing to even look at the Decepticon medic. 

He heard the medic hum slightly, then began folding the flaps of his skin back, stitching them together in probably the worst job any one had ever seen. Silas used the rest of his strength to pull his head up. 

“Wh-what are you doing? I thought you said we were done; that you were going to finish me off!”

He heard the medic laugh, and fear shot through his entire body. 

“Now Silas, I never said that. I said that we were almost done... for today. We'll continue our little session tomorrow, after I am able to study the samples you have so generously given to me, and receive some much needed rest. Don't worry, it'll all be over in due time.”

Then, he walked away. Silas used the last of his reserved strength to lift his head and scream.

“You fucking whore!”

He stopped. Time seemed to come to a slow stop to Knock Out as his processor registered the rude insult that disgusting human threw his way. He wanted nothing more than to turn and rip him apart, but that would come in due time. However, he would never allow a dirty flesh bag to get away with calling him such things. 

He turned and walked over, staring at him, processor going mad at the smirk that Silas was giving him, wishing he could rip it off... now there was an idea, for later of course. He still wanted to listen to the beautiful screams his little experiment let out every time the knife dug into him, every time his internals were yanked from his body, every time he looked into his gleaming eyes. 

The decepticon medic pondered for a moment, before moving his fingers to Silas' ankle. 

“Wait, what are you doing?!”

“Just a moment, my dear. This will only take a second.”

Knock Out had learned about a tendon, things that keep muscle to bone on humans, and a very particular on the back of human ankles that could hinder a fleshling's ability to walk. With one slow drag, he sliced the achilles heel, adoring the sound of agony and pain his little pet let loose. 

“There, all done. You should really no better than to insult me, Silas. Next time, I won't be so nice.”

The man panted, his throat aching and dry, his voice hoarse from screaming.

“I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you so much.”

“I feel indifferent towards you.”

Then, he turned and left, leaving Silas to soak in a puddle of his own blood, drool, and urine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: As Red As My Paint  
> Rating: M  
> Genre: Horror/Drama  
> Pairing: Mentioned Knock Out/Breakdown  
> Universe: Prime  
> Warnings: Violence, gore, torture, medical horror, character death, past mpreg, graphic descriptions/material, and other nsfw material.   
> Based off of Season 2 Episode 19: The Human Factor
> 
> Songs of Inspiration:  
> “Girl With One Eye” by Florence + the Machine  
> “Teen Idle” by Marina and the Diamonds  
> “Kill Everyone” by Hollywood Undead
> 
> Summary: The one and only time he didn't mind a ruined finish. It'd be worth it all in the end. 
> 
> Author's Note: Yay, the second part! And guess who's finally moved? This gal! After four months of waiting, we finally did it! Anyways, I'm really not all that happy with the ending of this, but whatever, I can live with it. Anyways, there's a headcanon in here that I made up towards the end and info will be available at the end. So finally, this story is finished and thanks for all the hits and kudos and all that junk! Alright, on with the show!

As Red As My Paint – Part 2

\----

It took him waking up to realize that he had past out atop the disgusting metal table in the medical bay of the Decepticon warship. His body was now failing him, slowly. Without the organs that the Decepticon medic had extracted from his body, his systems were beginning to shut down, one by one. His body could not dispose of the waste it produced, so his body reacted in the only way it could to dispose of the materials it no longer needed.

He vomited. 

He turned his head to the side as the contents of his stomach came up through his throat. He projectile vomited a mixture of bile, saliva, blood, and somehow energon, and the gross and disgusting combination splattered all over the side of the medical table. Drool leaked over the corner of his mouth as he panted, continuing the dry-heave with his head turned to the side. 

He attempted to move his limbs, but choked on his own cries as sharp and intense pain traveled by his spinal cord. He lifted his head as much as he could, seeing the large puncture wounds in his legs and the dried blood that riddled the medical table. He sobbed in agony as his left ankle twitched and pain from his torn tendons afflicted his weak and failing body. 

He threw his head down, not even caring about the harsh clang it created that resonated throughout the medical bay. His pain would end soon, but not soon enough. He prayed to whatever God was above him for him to die at that very moment, but of course, his prayers were never answered. 

He heard the doors of the medical bay slide open and close and the familiar sound of pedes came closer to him, growing louder and louder. 

“Good morning, Silas. Did you sleep well?”

“Fuck off.”

Knock Out scoffed, pretending to be hurt by such a crude statement. “Is that any way to treat your host, Silas? Do we need to have a repeat of last night's farewells?”

The human stiffed.

Knock Out laughed.

“I do, however, have news for you today.”

Silas stared at him, scared to even think about asking.

“Good news for you, bad news for me.”

For a small moment, he felt relief, silently hoping that the Decepticon medic would give him back his digestive organs and set him free, but in the back of his mind, he knew that that would never happen. He could only stare at the mech standing in front of him, neither of them able to take their eyes or optics off of each other. Then, Knock Out spoke.

“The bad news, Lord Megatron had to go and spoil my fun. He wants to be rid of your disgusting organic body and wants to do away with your existence. Although your screams of agony are music to my audio sensors, the are a nuisance to him. He also grows tired of your disgusting stench, saying he can smell you all the way from the bridge.” He sighed and mumbled, “And just when I was actually beginning to enjoy myself, too.”

Silas never said a word. If that was the Decepticon's version of bad news, he was terrified to hear his version of good news.

“The good news, I get to have the last of my fun with you today. Lord Megatron has allowed me this solar-cycle off to do with you as I please and finally dispose of you for good. I was hoping for a few more decacycles of study to really understand your species' internal organ systems, but orders are orders I suppose.”

The medic walked over to another part of the medical bay and began cleaning his tools from last night's study session; he had been to exhausted afterwards to take the time to wipe them down. He found it rather difficult to wipe the dried organic blood off of his stainless-metal tools, but he didn't mind. It would all be worth it soon enough, once he finally disposed of the parasite that infected the world's core. 

He felt Silas' eyes burn into the back of his helm, but it wasn't like he cared all that much. He began to wonder if the human was thinking about him, or if he was thinking about himself. It felt as if he wanted to say something to the crimson mech, but couldn't find the right words, or perhaps, he had finally learned from their previous sessions in social politeness. 

He was now up to Silas to decide whether to speak up or keep his mouth shut.

“And since when do you take orders?”

Ah, there we go.

With his back still turned to the human, he smirked and continued to wipe down his medical tools. He knew it was fruitless to do so, but he despised working with filthy things, especially his own tools. A thought popped up his head, but pushed it to the back of his processor, but not before his shoulder stiffened and his intakes hitched. He heard chuckling and then coughing coming from behind him, and he turned around.

“You still think of him, don't you? Or course you do. It may have not looked like it on the outside, but behind closed doors, you two were rather close to say the least. Am I correct?”

The medic kept his composure, although on the verge of turning around and ripping the disgusting human to shreds, then throwing his entrails into a smelting pit, watching the filthy and absolutely gross organic tissue burn to nothingness and let the loud hiss of the flesh dissolving in the hydrochloric acid. Perhaps after this was all said and done; he still had much work to do.

Settling down the last tool he had wiped down, he strode over the medical table where Silas had been placed and rendered immobile. He scowled lightly at the grotty mess of internal fluid Silas had vomited and let drip over the side of the table. The smirk that was painted across the human's face was erased, and now he could only stare at him and tremble, whimpering as sharp pings of dull agony rattled his body at his constant shaking. 

His digits curled around his left leg, pulling it up off the table slightly. The human screamed as pain shot up and down his lower body and up through the base of his spine. Silas felt familiar fingertips tracing the rim of the puncture wounds in his calves and thighs. 

“Well, since you're in the mood for opening old wounds, why don't we have some fun and open yours, too?”

With that, the Decepticon medic ripped open the wounds once more, letting the human scream his tiny little heart out as more organic fluid squirted from his reopened and infected wounds. Red blood mixed with clear and white infection leaked onto the table, and he choked on his own scream of agony as sharp talons pulled on his right leg.

Out of his cries of agony, Silas spoke up. “Is this any way to treat a guest, oh most humble host?”

He nearly choked on his own saliva as Knock Out shoved a taloned digit into the puncture wound on his lower left leg. 

“You are aboard the Nemesis. You're not a guest. You're a nuisance.”

Silas flinched at the hiss Knock Out gave him, his voice dripping with acid. 

With that, the Decepticon medic stood back, pulling his fingers from the reopened wounds on Silas' legs. The human watched as we walked out of the light, only hearing the sound of pedes stepping upon the floor. It felt as if the sound was coming from all directions, and he tried to lift his head up, but was too exhausted to do so. His internal systems were failing on him and he had lost so much blood. He was utterly surprised that he even woke up. He should be dead, but he knew that that would be far too easy. It would seem that his quote-unquote God had different plans for him; plans of punishment.

Silas was pulled from his musing when the gleam of crimson-red paint caught the corner of his eye. Knock Out was back by the side of the medical table, looking down upon him, not saying a word.

For a while, they stayed like that; motionless, staring at each other without making a single sound. Silas did not dare move or look away from the medic's piercing red eyes. He dared not blink, either. The medic stared at him for a second more, then blinked and turned away. 

Silas would have breathed a sigh of relief, but he knew better than to do so. He knew his end was near, but not as near as he'd like it to be. He wished for death to take him right at this very moment, but it never came.

He watched the medic walk back over to him, a cloth in his hand. He could see his blood staining the pure white color of the cloth's fabric. He gulped, coughing as his dry throat contracted, his vocal cords hoarse from the amount of screaming and wailing he had let out in the past two days. He closed his eyes tight and bit his lip, looking away from the crimson optics of the Decepticon medic.

He heard him sigh before speaking. “I've decided that I've grown bored with my current study of human anatomy and biology. Well, I suppose I can say that. I must say that I'm rather fascinated by how similar your internal systems are to Cybertonian, but much more fleshy and disgusting, full of various fluid and tissue. It would seem that I've grown bored of you. One can only play with a toy for so long before becoming bored and moving on to the next.”

He shrugged his shoulders before turning away. “So now, we've come to the climax of our story, and we are heading down the hill to the resolution. It's time to fulfill a promise I made to a friend.”

\----

_Breakdown winced as a cloth was rubbed on his cheek, wiping away dried energon and dirt, the fibers slipping into the cuts and deep gouges on his orange faceplates. It burned slightly, but ignored it all nonetheless. Although his pain did not go unnoticed by his partner._

_The medic worked in silence, although Breakdown could see his optics. They wandered around his body, down his arms and chest, tracing the large gashes and scuffs in his armor and protoform. His face remained neutral, but deep down, Breakdown knew how he felt._

_“Such a simple mission. Yet, you managed to get beat up so badly.”_

_The ex-wrecker grimaced when Knock Out gently dress a hand into a large dent on his shoulders._

_“How could such primitive creatures such as humans do this to you?”_

_The blue mech shoved him off, a small scowl appearing as the movement caused a dull pain to run down his arm._

_“Ran in to a an old friend beforehand.”_

_“I see.”_

_“Almost had 'im too! Before those fraggin' fleshbags showed up and... well, you know the rest.”_

_Knock Out leaned over and patted him on the cheek._

_“You'll get him next time. I'm sure of it.”_

_Breakdown smiled, but winced after doing so, his faceplates incredibly sore._

_“Thanks, babe.”_

*~*~*

_He let the medic run his fingertips over the patch on his right eye. It didn't hurt much anymore. It hurt more on the inside rather that the outside. He couldn't help but resent himself for being unable to protect and defend himself from such disgusting little creatures. He snarled at himself at the thought._

_He felt Knock Out's other servo caress his face._

_“It's not your fault.”_

_The larger mech let himself smile._

_“I'll get him back.”_

_He let his one yellow optic look up at his partner._

_“I'd rather you didn't. He isn't one to mess with. You... you saw what he did to me. I don't want that to ever happen to you. I... I don't think I could ever live with myself if I let that happen to you.”_

_The medic smiled softly before pecking him on the lips._

_“I've already made my decision.”_

_Breakdown sighed. He knew there was no changing his mind now._

_“... promise?”_

_“Cross my spark and hope to drive.”_

_Breakdown smiled and chuckled._

_“Thanks, babe. I love you.”_

_“I love you, too.”_

*~*~*

The red medic stood over Silas, and was brought out of his musing by the soft whimpers of pain the human let out. He looked down, before tracing a fingertip over his soft, fleshy cheek, before digging in slightly. He yelped in pain as a large gash was cut down from his cheekbone down to his neck, just missing the jugular vein.

Then, he pulled away. He say Silas look at him, rage and desperation in his eyes. 

“Well, what are you waiting for? Finish me off!”

“No.”

Knock Out leaned down, the tip of his finger just above his right eye.

“I have one last thing.”

Slowly, he left his finger down, piercing the soft components of the human's eye, stabbing through it like it was fresh energon cake. He absolutely adored the scream of pure agony the human let out. Then, he slowly began to retract his finger, letting the organ come with him, loving the sound of pained wailing as it detached painfully from the human's skull.

There was a long pause between the two, Knock Out only watching as Silas thrashed and wailed and cursed at him as he screamed in agony from his eye being slowly yanked out. 

“All done.”

Then, the medic wrapped his hand around the human and picked him up.

“Any last words?”

Silas lulled his head over and stared at him, blood and other bodily fluids leaking from him. He let himself have one final smirk, before choosing his words carefully.

_“Axle.”_

Knock Out felt his spark nearly stop and the energon ran cold in his veins. The smirk the human held on his face made him want to vomit, his tanks churning at the fact that he knew.

He fucking knew!

Absolute rage overlook his processor, and he slowly began to to squeeze around his body. The human let out loud yells of pain at the pressure that constricted his body, becoming stronger and harder as the medic's rage.

Through his pain, he was able to speak.

“Hehe-- Did I-- ahhhhh-- haha... touch a nerve?”

He yelped and his skin darkened as the pressure grew stronger.

“You shut your disgusting, little fucking mouth you piece of organic shit. How fucking dare you even mention something like that, you despicable example of a human being.”

He let the pressure up a bit, letting Silas have one last breath of life-giving air.

“I would say that it's been a pleasure, but then I remember who you are. So in your own words...”

Then, Knock Out let his servo clamp hard around his soft and fragile body, the human's entire nearly exploding in his servo. He heard Silas let out one last scream before he heard a pop, cutting off the last sound the human would ever make.

His anger began to disappear as he felt the human's bodily fluids run his down his servo and arm, seeping through his digits. Blood, bile, urine, and feces ran down his hand as he stood for a long while, letting the rage cool down and letting his processor come back to a normal state of mine, for him.

After that, he walked over and threw the deceased carcass into the incinerator, letting the hot flames and coal burn Silas' body to ash as if it never existed. Then, he wiped off his servos, and through the cloth into the fire. 

His finish was ruined, but he didn't care. This was the one and only time he didn't care about it, for it was worth it in the end to be able to rid of that disgusting parasite, exterminating him for both human and Cybertronian kind.

He stood for a long while, thinking of the words Silas had said, those words burning into his processor like the most corrosive acid. Then, he began to remember him. 

NO.

He shook his head. He couldn't think about him. Not without Breakdown. With him and now Breakdown gone, Knock Out had nothing more. Nothing left in the universe. 

Alone.

He looked back into the medbay, staring at the table he had preformed his experiment on that pest on, how dirty and gross it looked and smelled. He'd send a drone to clean it later. For now, he needed to be alone. Away.

He turned and walked out, the door sliding shut, and the sound of pedes walking away slowly fading out.

End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I usually don't do author's notes at the end, but I guess I should probably vaguely explain my headcanon for Axle. Axle is a child that Breakdown and Knock Out had together back on Cybertron before the war began. He's believed to be dead by both of his parents due to when his parents were called away to fight for the Decepticon cause, leaving him with other family. So, anyway to get these two pissed off is to mention him at all. And Silas just had to go there, so yeah. That's pretty much explains it. Not all of it because I haven't quite worked out all the details yet, but I'll get there. 
> 
> Maybe I'l even write a story about it, who knows?
> 
> Anyways, thanks again for all the kudos and hits and all that jazz, and thanks so much for reading!


End file.
